


Stunnin'

by CheetahLeopard2



Series: White Collar/Batman fics [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar (TV 2009), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Crossdressing, Galas, I hate that term but here for the search, M/M, Other, Tim Drake is Neal Caffrey, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2
Summary: For an FBI case Neal has to go to a gala undercover as feminine-presenting Tim isn't even phased- this is nothing compared to some of the other undercover roles he's filled over the years
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent/Jason Todd
Series: White Collar/Batman fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025266
Comments: 33
Kudos: 200





	Stunnin'

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes clothing isn't gendered and also drink your respect women juice and also sex worker rights juice
> 
> Title from Stunnin' by Curtis Waters

“Who’s going to be able to be the other woman?” Peter asks, realizing as he looks over his squad that Diana’s the only woman there.

Neal doesn’t even look up from his idle sketching to see if anyone else has volunteered. He’s lounging perhaps a bit too far back in the generic desk chair, ankles crossed and propped up on the conference table.

There’s silence. He adds a bit of shading to Jason’s nose. It’s still silent.

Neal looks up, over all the agents averting their eyes, and meets Diana’s disappointed gaze. She rolls her eyes at him, and he shrugs. More silence.

“I’ll do it,” Neal finally says nonchalantly, “no problem. Tomorrow?”

The silence this time is stunned. There was no aggrieved sigh, no ‘If no one else will…’. Diana’s looking at him with something close to thanks, while the other men are disgracefully relived.

Neal tells Peter not to bother picking him up tomorrow, Diana’s got him covered. It’s mildly alarming, but Peter shrugs and lets it go.

* * *

Champagne bubbles, lilting music, and the tinkling of laughter.

Loosely swirling a flute of fruity alcohol, flowing through a waltz, faking a charming smile and fluttering his lashes.

There’s a formula to these events, and Tim’s been raised in them. The fact that he’s presenting as a woman at this one doesn’t make much difference. He changes his body language just so, raises his voice and lilts his tone to give each sentence a low feminine curl.

On his arm, Conner smirks at the each envious once-over Tim lets slide over him. They are archers taking their shot and his hide is silk- gossamer and fake and woven finely enough arrows cannot pierce it.

Coincidentally, so is his dress.

A red, silk, floor-length gown that hugs his hips and his small padded bust, the red silk off one shoulder and a dark blue strap across the other, trailing a stripe across his chest and down his opposite side down to his hip. The latticework holding together the open back is of the same material. A choker, metal looking almost woven with inlay of matching blue quartz, narrows his neck and draws subtle attention.

His lips are the same red of his dress, nails the same blue. A golden hairpin sharpened to a point holds together a simple bun-twist updo with a few extensions.

He’s stunning, outfitted in Red Hood scarlet and Superboy blue, and Conner had made him let him take no small number of photos to send to Jason, who’s on a mission with the Outlaws and had called the moment the photos sent to complain about not being able to come with.

First time he’s actually wanted to come to a gala, Tim shouldn’t have been as flattered by that as he was.

The socialite they’re talking to comments on what a sweet couple they are, and Tim leans into Conner’s side, twisting up slightly to press a fond kiss to his jaw. Taking the chance to whisper, “Any leads?”

Conner tilts his head to the left, and Tim follows his gaze.

The suspect located, Tim nods slightly with a flirty grin, “I’ll go grab us more drinks.”

The moment he’s far enough, he clicks on his earpiece.

* * *

The gala’s in full swing, and Neal’s nowhere to be seen. Diana’d shown up not too long ago, with a shrug and saying she’d handed Neal off to the date he’d procured and they’d arrived.

Peter’s scanning the cameras from the van when Neal’s voice filters into the channel, “Plum shirt with checkered tie.”

“Neal?” Peter startles, he hasn’t seen Neal at all, “Where are you?”

Neal chuckles, “Guess,” before turning off his mic with a definitive click.

They don’t figure out who he was, until they’ve apprehended their suspect.

Peter’s working on making sure the socialites evacuate the area when Conner Kent-Luthor comes up to him, trailing after his date like a love-sick puppy with a besotted smile.

“Please evacuate the area-” Peter starts the spiel, and she rolls her gold-outlined eyes.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice,” she says in Neal’s voice, and Peter’s jaw drops, his mind going blank.

“You- how- wha- Wow,” he finally stutters out, “That’s impressive.”

Neal shrugs, “You go undercover in feminine-coded dress one time you do it a thousand times,” then pauses, thinking, “actually, notable exception- Pole dancers have my eternal admiration.”

Peter laughs, shaking his head, “Did Diana know?”

“Nah,” Neal says, painted lips tilting in a sharp smirk, blood red, “she dropped me with Kon and he helped me.”

Peter turns to Conner Kent-Luthor, heir of Lexcorp, “And how do you know Neal? What’d he steal from you?”

Conner grins, eyeing Neal with a gleam in his eyes, “My heart.”

Neal laughs, one sharp sound, before punching Conner’s shoulder, “That was terrible.”

Peter raises his eyebrow at the casual, brash gesture, but before he cfan comment, Jones walks over with a, “Having trouble Peter?”

Neal’s eye gleam mischievously, and Peter hurries to cut him off, “This is Neal.”

Jones chuckles, “Good one Peter.”

“Should I be insulted?” Neal asks with a frown, and Jones does a double take.

“Holy shit, Caffrey,” Jones breaths, “I’m impressed.”

Conner slings his arm around Neal’s shoulder and presses a kiss o his cheek, “As you should be.”

“Conner!” Diana calls over with a wave, “Where’s Neal?”

Neal waves, and Diana visibly stalls, before quickening her pace. She gives Neal a once-over before letting out a low whistle, “Damn, you clean up well.”

“Okay, now I should definitely be insulted,” Neal jests, and then turns to Conner, “I’ll see you and Jay later.”

“Sounds plan, pocketbook,” Conner presses one last kiss to Neal’s cheek before turning with a wave over his shoulder.

“Bye, sugartits,” Neal says fondly in return, and turns back to the FBI agents.

“Pocketbook? _Sugartits_?” Diana asks, not bothering to stifle her laughter.

Neal shrugs, completely unrepentant, “I’m not wrong. But if we’re done here, I’m heading out. This isn’t the most comfortable.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please Comment!!


End file.
